


After It Was All Over

by MisterRJ



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Bad Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Child Neglect, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), I think?, Mentioned Abuse, Mentioned Wilbur Soot, More tags to be added, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Ranboo Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), Trauma, Trust Issues, after chapter 1 i promise, cottagecore escapism, every fic i write has trust issues, rp!dream angers me, what did you expect?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28846386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterRJ/pseuds/MisterRJ
Summary: Tommy lives by himself after doomsday, but decides to give his newest old friend some much needed advice.Somewhere else, Ranboo contemplates his own living situation.
Comments: 74
Kudos: 775





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Damn bitch! You sad! 
> 
> Also! If you guys have any critiques for me, tell me in the comments!
> 
> This is only about the rp characters. If someone in the book is uncomfortable with this or something, I'll remove them from the story or take the whole thing down, depending on how much they are in the story.
> 
> Also, yeah, some characters are very ooc, but almost everything they do is improv and i view things their characters do as ooc. Let me take some liberties and hop on the bad parent philza train. Also, it was only marked teen and up because of cursing.

The forest was much different compared to L’manberg. Everything was undisturbed, untouched. The nights were without noise besides the occasional clicking that came from cicadas or crickets. He built his house from dark oak. No one told him his house was ugly this time or changed it without asking him. Tommy decided he loved that house, as much as he loved his first-ever home.

It’d been a week since he watched the city he’d fought for so hard to be reduced to nothing in around an hour or two. If Alivebur were still around, he’d say some quote or reference about it.

~~~~

Rome wasn’t built in a day, but it burned in one.

~~~~

He watched his father and brother do it. They teamed up with the man who had practically tortured him. Tommy wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t even been at their house long enough to tell them what Dream had done. 

Tommy had tried to rationalize it, watching his family bring his life’s work to bedrock. He knew why his brother had done it, but it didn’t even matter. It didn’t make it right. Tommy knew L’manberg wasn’t perfect, he thought the butcher army was a mistake. It was a hard one to forgive, but it wasn’t Tubbo’s fault. He was a kid, not a president, after all. A kid’s misstep didn’t give Techno the right to do what he did, but at least he understood the man’s reasoning, to a certain extent.

Philza was different. Tommy struggled to make sense of his father’s choices. Philza held no personal grudge against L’manberg, besides the attack on his son. As Tommy said before, that didn’t mean they had to tear the place to the ground. All Tommy could think about, is how he had always favored Techno, always going along with his favorite.

It wasn’t something Tommy liked to think about, so he tried to forget it. It took growing up to figure that out. Techno hadn’t changed much, Tommy realized at some point. Techno had never talked much and had been a brilliant fighter since birth, or at least as long as Tommy had known him. Tommy and Wilbur had personalities. The two had flaws that weren’t ‘I’m too aggressive sometimes,’ or ‘I hear voices in my head’. They were simple people. Sometimes, Tommy acted out against Philza. Sometimes, Wilbur isolated himself from the rest of the world. And what Philza didn’t know, scared him, strangely enough.

As Tommy grew older and older, it was more and more obvious that Philza barely tried to help or understand them. Why would he need to when he already had one perfect son? 

Then, when Tommy desperately called Philza over and over again, Philza showed up moments too late. The man arrived just in time to scold his son, fail to stop him from blowing everything up, then proceed to kill him. Tommy watched his brother beg to die. Philza, still too confused, followed his son’s orders with only brief hesitation. It doesn’t take a philosopher to tell you killings wrong, but a terrorist? Feel free to drive a sword right through that sicko!

So, yeah. Tommy watched his brother die in front of him. He watched the lights fade from the eyes of the scared young boy, who had never learned to try to understand himself. Maybe if he had, there wouldn’t have been a lasting reminder of Philza’s broken clock following him into exile. 

But, Tommy tried not to think too much about it. He decided to start a farm. There wasn’t much to do out there, so Tommy would fill his time making a simple food source. He could gather the wheat seeds himself, but he went to The Greater DSMP to get other plants. He ran into some people on the way, greeting them accordingly. A small part of him was relieved at the hole’s abandoned state. The place couldn’t come back now. The name was tarnished with bad memories.

He did run into an old friend. He saw the enderman hybrid teleporting to a nearby road, and Tommy made his way towards the guy. He noticed the other boy mumbling to himself as he drew closer. 

“Hey, Ranboob! Long time no see, aye?”

“Yeah, Tommy,” he replied. He had a sympathetic look in his eyes. It was the pity that Tommy had always hated. “How are things going, since, well, you know?”

“Pretty well.” Tommy glanced in the direction of his new home. “The woods are perfect, I think. What about you?”

Ranboo hesitated before speaking. “Okay, I guess.” Tommy thought he was lying, but he didn’t say anything. “I’ve been a little stressed, but that sort of comes with being me.” Ranboo looked up briefly before continuing, searching for his words. “Philza offered me a place to stay, which has been nice.”

“Philza?” Tommy regretted speaking as soon as the name left his mouth.

Ranboo’s expression matched Tommy’s, eyebrows raised. “Yeah, what about it?”

“I guess I’m just surprised.” Tommy himself paused this time to think. “I hope he enjoys your company more than he enjoyed mine.” Philza had barely ever been at the house when Tommy was living there. Tommy assumed he just didn’t want to see him. He made time for Techno, of course.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Philza’s been nicer to me than anyone else on this server!”

Tommy didn’t have to think too hard about his answer this time. “That’s because this server is made up of selfish dickwads, Mr. Boob.” Ranboo didn’t have a response to that. It was true. “Just don’t rely on him too much. His attention span doesn’t last long for anyone or anything besides the man whose name starts with ‘T’ and ends with ‘echno’, old buddy.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away without looking back. He could only hope Ranboo took his words to heart and didn’t get too attached to the father he once thought he knew. Maybe it was better if he didn’t get attached to anyone for that matter. So far, being alone was working quite well Tommy.

\-----------------------------------------------

Ranboo tried not to take Tommy’s word to heart. The kid had been hurt by his father’s actions, and Ranboo didn’t understand them himself. He did try though. He listened to Philza and Techno talk at the dinner table, or he eavesdropped on them when the two trained.

They were close and spent a lot of time together, but they’d known each other far longer than then they’d known Ranboo.

Ranboo temporarily forgot what Tommy said after Philza helped him through a panic attack. He told him about the voices, even Dream’s voice. It clicked in Philza’s eyes and he knew what to do. Ranboo smiled, he’d never had anyone by his side during those terrifying moments. Now, he wouldn’t have to be alone again.

So, the days went on. Ranboo settled right in and made his room his own. It was a spare closet in the basement, but it wasn’t THAT small. It was like a walk-in closet, Ranboo assured himself.

The two other residents left to hunt for dinner and Ranboo went to the living room. He hadn’t had the chance to explore it. He didn’t want to come off as weird to Techno and Philza yet. So, now he had some time to wander the house. The kitchen remained clean, and he had Techno to thank for that. The living room was filled with books, some sat on the coffee table. It was an open area, to say the least.

He traveled upstairs. The single room must be Philza’s because Techno’s was also in the basement. Techno’s room was a bit bigger than Ranboo’s but had nothing of note, just a bed, and a few chests.

Philza’s was more personal. There was a little bell on the wall, and windows with beautiful views. Books sat on a shelf right above his bed and a few books made up a stack beside it. There was a desk in the corner of the room that piqued Ranboo’s interest.

He of all people should have understood the privacy surrounding books. This one was wide open though, and Ranboo was a snoop. He knew it, but he also knew it was far from the worst flaw to have. He noted the page number, then flipped to the cover.

It was titled simply, ‘daily report, DSMP’, so it was a diary. The first few days of his stay in Techno’s house were thoroughly described at the beginning of the book. It was sometime after that Wilbur-guy had blown up part of L’manberg. It was weird, knowing Wilbur was the man’s son. Each day was a one or two-page chapter, as promised by the name. Ranboo scanned the pages, looking for anything important. 

He came across a page strictly about Techno. 

~~~~

Techno ate breakfast, clearly irritated about something. It took me a while to figure out why. Later that afternoon, he told me the voices were worse than ever. It hurts to hear. I don’t know what to do. I just took him out hunting again.

~~~~

It wasn’t too detailed, but it told him something. Philza had experience with voices or at least people who heard them. The choice of hunting was odd though. The voices scared Ranboo and wore him out. He couldn’t imagine fighting when he felt like that.

He kept searching. For what, he couldn’t tell you. Just something.

~~~~

Tommy showed up yesterday. I wasn’t at the house when he arrived, but Techno was. Injuries reported: possible hypothermia, possible burnt skin, exhaustion. Tommy denied further examination, despite his brother’s protests. He didn’t say what happened, for him to end up as he did. But, at the end of the day, Techno took him in.

~~~~

The word struck him as odd. Techno took him in. As if Philza wouldn’t have. But he would’ve because Ranboo was pretty similar to Tommy, right?

The kid had been stealing from Techno, and Techno didn’t say anything to me. Tommy has been showing signs of trauma since he arrived, and possibly PTSD.

~~~~

It was strange how Philza talked about Tommy. Ranboo’s brain involuntary brought back Tommy’s warning. No, no. This isn’t that, Ranboo reasoned with himself. Tommy had been wrong.

~~~~

Techno’s voices are back, so more hunting. We caught a large deer today, and a few small rabbits. Techno and I talked about the possible futures of L’manberg.  
Side note: when asking for Techno’s armor back from Tommy, he had a notably odd reaction and his mood changed.

Hunters were sent after Techno, and he killed them all. We started a plan to blow up L’manberg. Techno’s voices are getting bad again, and hunting is not solving it.

~~~~

Ranboo realized very quickly that Techno’s voices were very different than his. He skipped through the days, scanning over the lines.

~~~~

Tommy has strayed from us. He’s working with Tubbo, and by proxy, L’manberg.

Dream joined us today.

L’manberg is gone. We were successful.

~~~~

A line caught his eye. A more recent one.

~~~~

The enderman hybrid caught my eye today. He doesn’t want sides. A government is essentially a side. He and Techno are similar then. I’ll invite him to our house. He doesn’t have anywhere to go. His house is gone and his friends think of him as a traitor.

~~~~

The entries mentioning him appeared often. Ranboo didn’t like them.

~~~~

Ranboo hears voices too. I wonder, are they violent like Techno’s? The poor kid was terrified when I found him. He built a little panic room, keeping his pain inside himself. A difference between the two. Techno’s voices made him angry. Ranboo’s voices scared him.

~~~~

He doesn’t like it when I look into his eyes.

Maybe I should take him out hunting one day, like Techno. Does the kid have a fighting spirit?

~~~~

Ranboo didn’t want to have whatever the fuck ‘a fighting spirit’ was, if he was being honest. Ranboo was panicking, but not because of the voices. He wanted to leave. He wanted to leave. He wanted to leave.

He wanted to leave.

Ranboo teleported. It was L’manberg, or what was left of it. He looked up, and it felt like the hole was tugging in on itself as if it would collapse and take Ranboo with it. 

He sank to the floor, looking at the stone in the ground. Things were getting worse, a lot worse. He might have burnt the community house. He might have acquired Tommy’s disc, doing who knows what. Anything is possible when you have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair and extreme memory loss.

Tommy. Maybe Tommy had been right. Maybe not? Ranboo felt stupid. Overwhelmed and stupid. He should know what to do. He didn’t know where to go. His body decided for him, finally working in his favor. All he had to do was think one thing. He wanted to leave.

\-----------------------------------------------

Ranboo found himself at the door to a little house. He was surrounded by thick trees, probably somewhere near the Greater DSMP. He gave the door a simple knock and waited. He heard rustling and all of the sudden remembered he didn’t know what he was doing. He started to cry accidentally, right before the door opened. 

He met eyes with a confused and tired Tommy and realized it was night.

“What the fuck, Ranboo? Are you okay man?”

“I- I don’t,” but he shook his head. He wasn’t okay. They both knew this. “ I just teleported here by accident.” He looked back up at Tommy. “I don’t know what to do.”

Tommy’s face settled. “Stay at my house today. I have a spare guest room.”  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ranboo hangs out at Tommy's cabin. They go exploring together

Dinner was mushroom-soup that night, a great diversion from the meaty meals Philza and Techno tended to bring home after hunting. Tommy wasn’t as good of a chef though, there were still mushroom chunks floating around in the broth. Ranboo didn’t care though. They were eating in silence. Tommy watched him the whole time but kept his mouth shut. He could tell Ranboo had had a bad day, and if he was honest, he’d rather avoid talking about Philza or Techno.

The night went by fast, as usual, and Ranboo woke without an alarm. He left his room, looking for his roommate and landlord, and failed to find him. He opened the door to the house and looked left and right. He hadn’t checked out his surroundings when he’d teleported in, so he took a moment to look around. Then, he spotted Tommy.

The man had a well-developed farm, with a variety of different vegetables. It was the last thing he’d expected Tommy to take up in his free time. It wasn’t too big either, he was just making what he needed. Ranboo wasn’t sure if he should disturb Tommy, so he just went back into the house. There was a kitchen, and what he could assume was Tommy’s room behind it. He’d stayed in the attic, which was oddly enough a huge improvement from the basement closet he’d been living in until then.

Ranboo went back upstairs. There was a little spare mattress. It was odd for Tommy to have. He would have to ask him about it some time. There were several large boxes in the room, which Ranboo assumed were used for storage. It was lit by three torches in various places in the room. The blanket that Tommy had handed him was knit, not made from animal fur. Did Tommy knit? There was so much Ranboo didn’t know about the guy, but he supposed he hadn’t had much time to. All they’d done together was burn down a house. Which got Tommy exiled. Oh, shit. Ranboo had forgotten about that, of course. Maybe he should start another book.

Ranboo thought about sides. All he could do was think. He’d tried not picking a side, but in truth, he’d chosen Techno and Philza’s side. Was he that blind? Now, he was out of it. Or was he? Was everything just another side to the people on this server? It frustrated him to no end. Sides were supposed to be irrelevant. They didn’t need sides, they needed to know each other. All they had to do was talk, why was fighting seen as necessary? Fighting was never necessary. Maybe, if the people on this sever talked to each other, like fucking adults, they could get somewhere.

But they never would. Ranboo had seen them trying to reason with each other, once. It was like watching walls yell at each other. No one listened. Ranboo tried to listen, but it was a two-way street. Listening was quickly interpreted as you saying it was okay to talk over you, to interrupt you.

Eventually, everything, everyone, was a different side. Philosophies, opinions, morals, they were all different. That’s how people worked, but because of the heavy focus on sides, it had to be labeled as something silly and childish. The second someone did something someone else didn’t agree with, they were called a villain. Did these people consider themselves to be characters in a children’s cartoon? It was bullshit.

Tommy had gotten away from it though. Ranboo just hoped he didn’t ruin it for him. Selfishly, Ranboo hoped no one ever followed him. They would just bring their so-called ‘sides’ with them. 

Where to go from here? It was a loaded question. Should he go back to the others and continue fighting a losing battle? Or should he just give up on his friends? Were they his friends? Was Tommy even his friend?

He heard the sound of the door being opened below him and made his way downstairs. Tommy was walking through the doorway and looked up at Ranboo.  
“How’d ya’ sleep, dude?”

“Very well, actually.” Ranboo had been a little surprised himself. The mattress- that he was of course grateful for- was pretty thin.

“Good, good. Care for some bread? I just harvested the wheat.”

So, the two had a good carb filled breakfast. The food was good this time, but, it was hard to mess something like this up when the physics of this world made it so easy.

“Do you have any plans out here, Tommy?” Ranboo took another bite out of his bread.

“Nah, just chillin’ for now,” he said, with a chunk of bread still in his mouth. “What about you, boob man?”

“Please don’t call me that.” Tommy laughed, keeping his mouth full of bread shut. “Uh, I was just thinking about that. I want the best for the other.” Ranboo looked out a window. “But they just make it so hard.”

Tommy swallowed his bread. “Like I said, Randude. They’re all a bunch of dickwads.”

“But you’re not, I don’t think.” Tommy laughed again. Ranboo hadn’t been joking.

“Oh, Ranboo. I’m one of the worst of them all. Side, you know of ‘em? Of course, you do! Your whole deal is hating them. Well, I created the first ones, fighting for those damned discs, and you know what? I still want them back. I haven’t even given up yet? How many wars has this place been through, just for those discs? I can’t even keep up.”

“Discs,” Ranboo mumbled. Something about discs, it rested in the back of his mind. 

“Yeah, discs.” Tommy shoved the last piece of bread into his mouth, before standing up from the table. “I don’t really care what you do around here. Just don’t fuck with my stuff.” He made his way to the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Tommy threw his backpack over his shoulder.

“Just exploring. Wanna come with?” Ranboo nodded. “Yeah, I don’t really know what to do when I’m not in the middle of a war, so I just walked around for an hour or so. It’s becoming a habit.”

The area around the house was beautiful. The trees were all tall, like the woods you’d see in a painting or art. Branches stretched around him and leaves poked him as they walked. He felt jealous of Tommy, and anyone shorter than him, specifically when he walked into a random branch. 

They came across one of those bushes that had pokey leaves and jabbed at each other for a while. Okay, so many it was just a few minutes of Tommy chasing him with a leaf. So, what? They hurt.

They spent the whole day exploring. Tommy had packed more food than Ranboo had expected him to, and had a compass for when they needed to come home. It did come in handy as they made their way back to the little cottage. Thankfully, Ranboo suggested they started on their way back right before dinner time rolled around because it took them a few hours for the house to come back into their view.

It wasn’t late enough to go to sleep, so they just continued their conversation inside. Tommy was very interested in Ranboo’s hybrid traits, which Ranboo didn’t mind talking about. It drifted off, faded.

“Ranboo, you don’t have to answer, but why’d you leave?” Ranboo was startled by the question. He was glad Tommy had given him an option to opt-out. It made him feel safe.

“I think what you said was right.” He couldn’t stop thinking about the book then. He was living with Tommy. Tommy had lived with Techno and Philza, being Philza’s biological son, along with Wilbur. “I found this, like- this little diary thing Philza had.” He hesitated, wondering how much information he wanted to divulge to Tommy. Not just for his sake, but Tommy’s mental state as well. He seemed somewhat aware of his father’s- whatever, but he didn’t want to set Tommy off.

“It was just, weird, I guess. You know, it set off one too many red flags. So, I just left.” Tommy watched him talk. “At first, I teleported to “L’manberg. I think I was just confused. It’s been an odd adjustment to make, it not- it not being there anymore and all.” Tommy nodded. “Then, I teleported here. I don’t know how I knew where to go.”

“Well, you’re here now, and Philza is nowhere near, and neither is Techno. It’s just us out here, and that’s how it’ll stay.” It was reassurance like he was talking to himself, Ranboo noted. “Just us, this house, and my little farm. Nothing else.” 

Ranboo nodded. “It’s been a whirlwind, being here. I got here just before doomsday. Was it ever peaceful?”

“There were moments. But, Dream was always there, in the background. There’s always some war or political events going on. People will always be divided here.”

The conversation ended not long after. Ranboo made his way up to his room. He appreciated being able to stretch out, things tended to feel a little small due to his height. The mattress was either a king or queen, but he couldn’t tell. All he knew was that it was being enough to sleep on. And sleep he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Hope you all enjoyed


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The secret of cobblestone towers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just want to see tommy build a cobblestone tower without someone insulting it okay????

Sleep was shit. Tommy could never get a good night of it.

The kid woke with a start, the sound of a phantom firework ringing in his brain. Nightmares were a common occurrence for him, after he’d started fighting in wars. That time, he dreamed about what it would’ve been like to be his best friend up there at the festival, getting blown up by Techno. He was shaking and crying, and the moment before he woke, he could’ve sworn he felt his skin on fire. He wasn’t though. It was all in his head.

Tommy was already getting bored of farming. He didn’t like it when people told him he was impatient. He was just restless, that sounded a whole lot better than impatient. 

The still forest around him, it made him restless. He felt like he should be doing something more. Maybe it was because he’d spent the last years of his life fighting wars nonstop, there was always something to do when a war was happening. Now, he felt useless. It wasn’t true, but he felt like it was. His head was pulling a trick on him, and he could recognise that, but it did feel true. It was like an instinct, to get up and start strategizing with his fellow soldiers or looking for netherite in the nether. But there were no comrades this time, and no need for netherite, so he just laid on his bed.

He considered making another tower, those cobblestone ones he liked. He always did that. It made him feel nice, like he could do something. He could easily make a cobblestone tower, and it’d become an odd comfort for him. So, that day, he set out to make a cobblestone tower. He didn’t use the lava method, he wanted to take his time on this one, like the olden days. He thought about adding windows, and stairs when he was done. He would certainly have enough time.

Meanwhile, Ranboo was just waking up. The bed had been marvelous, far better than the one at Philza’s house, he decided. 

Tommy had gotten fifteen blocks high when Ranboo came out to visit him. He was making it wider than usual, deciding to make it a usable tower.

“How’s the tower going, Tommy?”

“Just excellent my friend, excellent indeed,” Tommy responded, trying to seem awake.

“What exactly is the use for the towers you always make? Are they like beacons to lead you to certain locations, or what?” Ranboo took out some of his own cobblestone and started adding to the layers.

“I don’t really know, Ranboo. I don’t think they have a purpose, other than to be there, I guess.”

“There was someone once, who said something like, ‘it’s about the journey, not the destination,’ I think.” Ranboo thought out loud. “Is that what this is like?”

“I guess. They’re just really simple to make, and the cobble looks really good. It is my favorite block. Did you know that Ranboo?”

“Maybe, at some point.” Ranboo looked down. “Memory problems, you know.”

They talked a little after that. Tommy told Ranboo of his full plans for the tower, with the windows, and stairs and such. Ranboo was a good listener, Tommy thought. He was a quiet guy, who liked to just mumble in agreement. Tommy wondered if he became more talkative. He’d like to know what Ranboo had to say, they were friends, after all.

“Ranboo, um, could you tell me what Philza said in his book about me?” Tommy didn’t know why he said that. He wasn’t even thinking about it. He’d even thought, very specifically, I really don’t want to know what Philza wrote in his book. That would probably be bad, and not a fun thing to hear. Ranboo looked away, and then at his own feet.

“You sure, Tommy?” Oh, that was a bad answer.

“No. I don’t know why I said that. Really, the last thing I want to do at this point is know anything that was in that goddamn book, if I’m being completely honest with you, Ranbud.” Ranboo nodded. “I think I know perfectly well what he thinks of me, and I’m perfectly fine with how much I know.”

“Philza killed endermen in front of me.” Ranboo said, starling Tommy slightly. “It wasn’t that bad. He would tell me to look away when he did it, though that didn’t make it much better. I could still hear their screams, their begs for help, and I did nothing.” Tommy listened, intent to listen to him talk. He barely knew anything about Ranboo’s enderman side. “I don’t know if he knew I understood them. It’s weird, because I didn’t do anything. I- I think they have just as much sentience as players, but no one else sees it that way. I mean, I’m half endermen, for fuck’s sake. It doesn’t make me any less human.”

“It sure as hell doesn’t Ranboo. Philza, he could try a little harder.” Tommy and Ranboo glanced at each other. There was brief understanding, but Ranboo looked more curious. “I don’t know if you noticed when you were there, but it’s hard for him, I think. Like, Philza has some sort of tunnel vision. He doesn’t always see the people around him.”

“Unless it’s Techno.”

“Unless it’s Techno,” Tommy repeated. “I’m still, like- I’m still very confused. Why’d they have to blow up the entire country, Ranboo?”

“I don’t know, Tommy,” was all Ranboo could really say. “I think everyone in L’manberg did what they could. At least no cannon lives were lost though.”

“Ranboo. They didn’t have to do it.” Ranboo realized Tommy was going through his own sort of tunnel vision. He wasn’t thinking about L’manberg, he was thinking about Philza and Techno. 

“No, they didn’t.” There wasn’t much else he could say.

The rest of the day, they just kept building. Ranboo could understand why Tommy liked his tower. There was no pressure to make it perfect and it was fairly simple to make. The next day, they would go out to gather some sand for the tall buildings. It had to have somewhere around 60 blocks high already. Ranboo smiled at it and looked at his new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not related to the story, but my sleep schedule is so fucked that i napped at 7 pm and woke up at 10. i then went downstairs, had breakfast, and set my dishes in the sink. i thought it was strange. clearly no one had been in the kitchen yet and it was dark outside. 
> 
> as i left the kitchen, it hit me. it was 10 pm. wtf
> 
> anyway i hope everyone enjoyed the chapter (:


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream is an attention whore and decides to bring back and old ‘friend’

Dream had been very bored recently, and he couldn’t put his finger on why. It was so satisfying, watching the damned country being blown deep into the ground, just as he had planned. Everyone who opposed him was so, so weak, it was almost sad, almost.

But, that didn’t matter to Dream anymore. Everyone was all mopey and sad now. What more could he take from these broken people? The only people living happily were Philza and Techno, and Dream was a tad scared of them. He liked the easy targets more, putting effort into things wasn’t his style. 

So, he waited and watched. It was torturous, having to be patient. He couldn’t imagine how other people did it, sitting around all day waiting. But, he didn’t have to wait for long.

The people had started building anew. Some idiotic scheme, called Snowchester. It was pathetic, watching the former president haphazardly throw together a new country. There were, what, three people living there, including Tubbo himself. Wait, three?

That number and the residents didn’t make sense. There was Tubbo, Jack Manifold, and the new guy. Where the fuck was Tommy?

Dream starred in the distance, filled with sudden confusion, and typical rage. It could have been oh so easy, to watch them reach their peak and blow the place up again. But now, without Tommy, all would be for not. It wouldn’t matter a single bit. 

Without Tommy, what was Snowchester? Another one of those wannabe L’manbergs? No, no, no. Dream would never spend his time on something so meaningless. Where was Tommy? Should he be looking for his silly discs?

Dream gripped his hands into fists, and charged back towards his house. L’manberg was a collective of people who all banded together to fight a common powerful enemy. Him. 

They had nothing to fight for, nothing to protect. Each member was like an island, or something. He was too angry to think of a good metaphor.

He thought about his resources. He used to have oh-so-many. The discs that he had seemed obsolete. Tommy hadn’t asked for them yet, or yelled for them, which confused him to no end. Not to mention, who cared about the discs besides Tommy? That was all he had. He wasn’t this fucking pathetic. There had to be something else.

Dream spent the next five hours scouring his house. He searched every nook and cranny, but came up empty handed. The sun was dimming as it set, and Dream willed it to return to the beginning of the day. It made him smile, even if it was one of the smaller benefits to being a god.

Being a god made you better than everyone around you, Dream had learned quickly when he made the world. Things were so easy, with just the snap of his fingers he could change reality. 

However, it had its downsides. Taking canon lives was a difficult process and Dream slowly discovered people put sentimental value over actual physical worth. Human nature was complicated, and Dream despised it. Dream couldn’t understand sentimentality. How does one get attached to something? Was it like getting attached to a person? Dream thought about certain people when his brain thought that, but he pushed it away. He had more important matters to attend to.

If not the dics, then what? Dream hated not knowing, almost as much as he hated asking for help, but he was at a loss. Sure, he could control the sky on occasion, but his power reached much farther than that. His very own hands could breach the pathway between life and death, and yank whatever he wanted through.

He’d never bothered to use them. Two people had died on the server, and frankly, Dream didn’t give a shit about either of them. Sure, it was fun to watch the screw around for a bit, floundering about. He would of course give them both credit. L’manberg couldn’t be easily destroyed, but the two tried their best, and what a try it was. Wilbur did a 180 and practically abandoned Pogtopia’s goal rather easily and attempted to blow up his country. The other dead guy was to blame for that actually, Schlatt. Now Schlatt, Schlatt had easily gotten the whole of L’manberg under his thumb. Dream remembered being surprised himself to find out he had combined his votes. Dream hated to admit it, but he assumed Schlatt would be too prideful to share his victory. Obviously, he had underestimated Schlatt’s business side. He sure was determined.

Schlatt had always been a cold cut businessman, and he never really hid under a persona. Only his employees had felt anything towards him besides anger, and most of the server hated him from the start, or grew to hate him. Wilbur was completely different. He’d been a protector, a leader, since the beginning of all the conflict. The man even held his own when Dream and his side had opposed his silly little country. But, oh how easily it was lost, down the drain. Then, Wilbur’s morals, they’d shifted dramatically. Or maybe they just revealed themselves. Dream wasn’t exactly sure. Maybe… Maybe he could just ask the man.

It seemed a ridiculous notion at first. What were the pros and cons? Dream didn’t want to be risky with any plans.

God, the pros. Dream could send off his little puppet. Maybe he could even get the guy to act friendly. The ex-L’manbergians would welcome him with open arms, after all wouldn’t he be similar to Ghostbur. Then, boom. Metaphorically and physically. 

But, alas, there were cons to any good thing. Wilbur was a little unpredictable. He could run off and side with the ex-L’manbergians for good. On the other hand, he could ruin Dreams plan and pull risky shit that would get Dream in trouble. Not to mention, it would be his first time experimenting with bringing someone back from the dead. Who knows what could go wrong?

Dear god, what’s a man got to do for some goddamn entertainment on this server? Dream looked wistfully out his window, remembering the good old days, when an entire country could be blown up at one man’s wish. Weren’t those the days? What Dream wouldn’t give to go back to that glorious, wild time… So, yes, his decision was made. One ex-president turned psycho, coming right up!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you're all enjoying it (:


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur wakes up and talks to Dream, but as we all know, Dream is a classic case of unreliable narrator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I fucked around with the timeline and made the characters ooc.

Imagine you’re waking up? Like, let’s say, from a coma or something. Wilbur’s resurrection was nothing like that.

The afterlife, not nice. The afterlife was cold and empty. Just so empty. There was a floor beneath his feet, but that was it. There were thousands of miles of just plain blank space, Wilbur discovered. This became a terrifying concept, as there was no sun, and no way to indicate how much time had passed since he’d died. There was also no conceivable end to what very well could be hell. In that way, it wasn’t so bad. He had a lot to think about when it came to his past, his life, and maybe that was the purpose of that place. 

But, all good things must come to an end. It could’ve been days, weeks, months, years, since he died, when he felt something. At first it was a gust of wind, which was startling all in itself, because this place had no weather at all for as long as he’d been there. Then something like clammy, yet cold hands grabbed him and pulled him. They were even colder than the place, Wilbur noticed, as the ground below him broke.

Wilbur was half-expecting to just burst through the Earth’s ground and get dramatically thrown onto the floor, but, of course, that was not what happened. Instead, Wilbur shot up, like he’d waken from that sort of dream you knew was actually a nightmare, but you couldn’t remember it. The air’s temperature change was so intense that Wilbur’s lungs practically collapsed. It took several long moments for his lungs to wear themselves out with coughing and for him to actually look around him. 

He was in his body, and the air around him was hot. It was hot because there was a sun in the sky. He glanced up, and quickly regretted it. He was so eager to see it, that he forgot he probably shouldn’t look directly at it. His eyes blinked rapidly, trying to adjust both to the light levels and the fact he’d just looked at the sun. He was near a forest, but also near some buildings. Around L’manberg, he assumed. He was too tired and shaken to actually look at them though. Besides, there was a more pressing issue at the moment. 

A man, oh so familiar looked up at him. A green man, that is.

“Hello, Wilbur, how was the long, long sleep?” Wilbur blinked, both in confusion, and the same reason mentioned before. The green guy seated himself next to the edge of the grave.

“Dr-” Wilbur launched into a coughing fit, before he could even get the man’s name out. Dream, that fucker. Always up to something. It settled faster than the last one. “Dream?”

“This is probably a little confusing for you. I’ll explain why later, but, for now, all you need to know, is that you’re back. Exciting, right?” Wilbur struggled to find words, still taking in the area around him. “Oh, yeah. Sorry I did it here. I didn’t want to move you and accidentally shift any vital organs out of place. Wouldn’t want all my work to be for nothing.”

Wilbur looked at himself. They’d buried him in the same clothes he died in, only without his trenchcoat. Even his beanie was in the grave with him, next to his hand. Down his shirt ran a gaping cut. Wilbur traced the skin underneath it feeling the scar. Back in the afterlife, Wilbur was free of any physical wounds he had, including the one running down the middle of his body. Here, it was different. It was longer than he remembered it to be. Philza hadn’t stabbed him, he’d cut through Wilbur. There was still blood on the clothes.

Wilbur’s eyes met Dream and Dream gave that stupid smile of his. A gloved hand pulled him out of the poorly-dug grave. It wasn’t even six-feet deep.

“Wilbur, do you have any of Ghostbur’s memories, out of curiosity?” The masked man tilted his head, looking back at Wilbur as he wandered forward. 

“Ghostbur… Ghostbur, who the fuck is that?” Wilbur pondered out loud, feeling a little frustrated to be out of the loop, even though it pertained to him. Dream laughed a little, in a mocking way.

“I’m surprised you don’t remember.” Dream was leading him somewhere. Wilbur wondered if the man had finally built himself a house. It wasn’t common knowledge, but Wilbur was keen on those sorts of things. “It was like this weird, optimistic ghost version of you. It said, like, ‘I only remember the good things’ and he was kind of useless. He pissed me off a few times, that’s for sure.”

“What the fuck?” 

“Yeah, I really don’t know what that whole thing was about, if I’m being honest.” Dream said, looking into the distance, before turned into the forest. Wilbur followed him without hesitation, but questioned his intentions.

“Even though you can make people come back to life, you were just, completely in the dark about Ghostbur, Dream? Sounds like you got pretty shit powers to me, Dream.”

“Says the living corpse. Fuck off dude. How the fuck does you dad have wings, and how is your brother a sentient piglin? Do you know?”

“Geez, Dream. I was just joking dude. What’s up your ass?”

“Well,” Dream looked down, stopping for a moment, then turning to face the paused Wilbur. “A lot has happened since you died, but then, things stopped happening. What’s the world without a little chaos?”

“Sure, sure, and you brought me back for it? I’m honored man, but seriously, why don’t you do it yourself?” Wilbur raised his eyebrow, and smiled.

“Okay, Wilbur fuck off. I’m not going to say you’re better than me. That’s not what’s happening. It’s just, I lack the IT factor, the draw, the dramatics of my two dead friends. So, I brought back the more entertaining one, and here you are.”

“So, what you’re saying is…” Wilbur smiled and leaned in. “Is that I am in fact better than you?” Dream turned around and continued walking wordlessly. Wilbur followed behind, struggling to hold back laughter. Dream could be entertaining when he was mad, in the petty sort of way.

“So, you finally have a house?” It was nothing to drool over, Wilbur had certainly seen better. It was more the fact that Dream had finally gotten himself a house. It was mainly spruce wood, and it was two floors. In a way, it reminded Wilbur of what a miniature woodland mansion would look like, if it were built by a really terrible person. Oh wait, it was.

“I’ve always had this house, Wilbur. Don’t lie to yourself.” Dream held the door open for him, strangely. “I’ve had it since the beginning of the server, I just don’t talk about it or use it. That’s why you don’t remember it.” Dream was good at lying, usually, unless it involved his house. He used the same tactics as usual, but rushed and sloppy. If you were to hear him lie about his house, you’d actually be able to recognize his normal lying easier. 

“How long has it been, Dream, since I died?” Wilbur looked around. The atrium was clean, unused. Wilbur was unsure why he needed the room. He barely had any friend to try to impress in the first place, why build a room that’s so unnecessary? 

“God, I don’t remember. A few months, almost a year, I believe,” Dream responded. Wilbur took in the information, but was unsure what to do with it. “What was it like, dying?” Wilbur thought for a moment.

“It hurts.” There was a long pause, like Dream was waiting for Wilbur to elaborate. “Now that I’m back, what’s the plan?” He followed the man into the next room, and it was more like what he expected to see. It had a fucked couch, probably like twenty years old or something, and a dusty fireplace. Large weapons of all sizes, netherite at that, hung on the wall, showing Dream’s full arsenal to any guest who entered. He was carrying a neitherite sword on him at the moment, so there were likely more than what he could see.

“Everyone’s settling down and moping around. It’s hell.” Dream popped down on his couch, looking at the ceiling. “I guessed you’d know what that’s what, right?”

“Alright, fuck you dude. But, seriously, the plan?”

“Alright, alright, no need to be pushy. So,” Dream sat up, looking at him again. “The tensions are down, and there literally aren’t any wars on the server. Not to forget, Ghostbur really improved your reputation and it’s been a while since they’ve even thought about alivebur. Basically,” Dream leaned forward. “It’s the perfect time for you to infiltrate.”

“What am I going to do? Turn around and be evil again? Your ideas are running dry, Dream,” Wilbur critiqued. To be fair, Dream wasn’t the most flamboyant of villains. He was no performer, he just liked to see people suffer and flop around helplessly. 

“Well, you got any bright idea’s zombie man?” Dream looked unimpressed.

“Not at the moment, but I’m sure, given enough time, I can come up with something a little better then just ‘Betraying Them (Part Two): Electric Boogaloo’, full offense, living booger.”

“Sure, have a go at it. Just don’t take too long. I didn’t bring you back to watch you sit around, like everyone else has been doing around here.”

Just as Dream was about to leave the room, Wilbur decided to ask the question that’d been in the back of his mind since he released he was alive again. “How is everyone exactly? How in L’manberg?”

“Oh,” Dream chuckled. “L’manberg.” He did a little head-shake, clearly amused. “It’s gone, Wilbur. Just a fucking hole in the ground, just how we like it.”

Wilbur was in shock slightly. It was hard to remember what happened just before he died. He really did blow the whole thing up. Dream slipped out of the room, leaving Wilbur alone. Dream did yell before leaving the house. “There’s a room at the end of the hallway. You can take a nap in there or something!” 

L’manberg was gone. It was strange to hear. He remembered the TNT, the hiss of the fire that set it off. The explosion had practically left him deaf, and the ringing in his ears left him extremely distressed. There was a sort of peacefulness at the end, after all, he’d reached his goal, but something was still missing. 

In all that time in the afterlife, he’d never really thought about what that missing thing was. He thought about the times before Pogtopia more. The ravine didn’t hold many good memories for him. But, there he was, leaning up against the wall, contemplating his life. Maybe that would be his goal this time, this life, finding his missing detail. Whether Dream could help with that or not was yet to be determined, so he made his way down the hall and took that nap.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some one arrives at Tommy and Ranboo's house. If you don't know who, what have you been reading? I don't know why I'm being so mysterious in these summaries.

Tommy stared at the looming tower stretching over his head. The almost finished product looked nice, nicer than Tommy had expected it to. Ranboo was a big help too, although a bit indecisive at times. It was good to have an outsider perspective to bounce ideas off of, and he thought it helped when it came to window placement. How is he supposed to know that symmetrical window placement can be tacky? He had to applaud himself for some of his very own ideas, and his use of resources. Most of it was made of cobble, but it had the rare wood piece to it, and Tommy thought it looked perfect. It was inviting, yet felt strong and fortified. 

It’d taken a good few days, and he felt himself becoming good friends with Ranboo. The day it rained, they both took a day off, together. Ranboo suggested if it happened again before the tower was completed they could run in fast and work on the interior design of the rooms they had completed until the storm stopped. Tommy liked that idea. He wasn’t sure if he liked his little cottage more, or his tower. Tommy thought about it for a while and decided the tower was special, but his home would stay his home.

Ranboo was doing well himself. He’d discovered another enderman power, and it fascinated Tommy. He could somehow pick up grass blocks like his hands had silk-touch or something. It didn’t seem to interest the man himself too much, so while Tommy did mention how cool it was, he did hold back on questions. He did wonder to himself what other powers Ranboo might have. It was sort of the perfect time to foster them, there finally being peace and all.

One day, recently, Ranboo had returned with the cat he’d forgotten. Tommy was a little surprised, as he’d gotten back to Philza and Techno’s cabin to get it, but he loved that cat. It was called ‘Enderchest’ and Tommy agreed it was very cute, although he was more of a dog person. Maybe he’d go looking for one soon. That could be his next mission after he declared the tower finished.

Tommy estimated he had about three days or less until he finished the tower, but at this point, it was just the finishing touches and the interior to touch-up. It was about mid-day when he heard a knock at the door. 

He got up, hesitantly. Ranboo was napping in his room, so it wasn’t him. Not one person had visited, besides Ranboo himself, but Tommy didn’t mind. Now, he felt himself dreading this interaction, whoever it was. So, after a second, softer, knock, Tommy curled his hand around the doorknob and pulled.

“Aye, Tommy. Long time, no see.” A tall, brunette man stood in front of him. Tommy recognized him instantly, but he didn’t believe it. He stood still, his brain wracking itself for an explanation. He was far different from Ghostbur. You could still see it, the bags under his eyes, the way he looked at Tommy, his squinting eyes, the signs of a man who was very much alive at one point, so not Ghostbur. 

“Wilbur,” Tommy felt like his voice was being forced out of him. “Are you- how are you alive?” Tommy’s fingers stayed on the door, not remembering they were still there. He wasn’t sure of anything around him at the moment.

Wilbur paused, thinking. “I don't- I don’t know, Tommy.” He could see Wilbur was upset, but he couldn’t tell exactly why. “Can I come in?” He stepped back, his eyes tracking Wilbur’s every movement. His mouth seemed to be sewn shut like he couldn’t get a word out. “Did you build this yourself, and the tower outside?”

Tommy shut the door, with a louder bang than he intended. He didn’t acknowledge Wilbur’s subtle flinch, and deep breath in. “I did have some help, Ranboo. Do you have Ghostbur’s memories?”

Wilbur once again took a second to respond. “Who’s Ghostbur? And who is Ranboo?”

Tommy frowned. “Ghostbur? Well, he was like, a ghost of you, or something like that. He only had memories or at least memories you considered happy, I think. I’m not sure exactly how he worked or what he was. I don’t think anyone did.” He looked up at Wilbur, who just nodded. “Ranboo’s an enderman hybrid. He joined a little after you died. He lives here, with me, now.” Tommy nodded to himself this time like he was confirming it to himself. 

“And um,” Wilbur paused, this time it was after he started speaking. Wilbur knew what he wanted to ask about, but didn’t want to ask. He was too afraid, and it relieved Tommy. Tommy knew what Wilbur wanted to ask about.

“L’manberg.” Tommy looked down. “L’manberg blew up.”

“I did that. It’s gone now, isn’t it.” Wilbur’s hand rested on the table, and he adjusted his glasses. Tommy didn’t think Ghostbur had even been seen wearing glasses.

“No, Wilbur.” Wilbur looked up, confusion crossing his face. “Your, your explosion, that isn’t what really, truly destroyed L’manberg. We rebuilt after that. Ghostbur helped a lot. We built over the crater, it looked so beautiful, especially at night. We had lots of floating paper lanterns above the city, lighting up the sky. It reminded me of when we lived near lightning bug filled areas as a kid. They would fly around, flashing their lights. It was quite lovely, and Tubbo was a good president, probably the best the nation had.” He looked up, expecting Wilbur to reject the idea, but the man nodded in agreement. 

“But then, Dream got in the way. Shit happened, you know. But, that wasn’t really what brought down the nation, just thought I would mention how much of a prick he was again.” Tommy laughed nervously. “Um, Techno had just retired, and everyone still hated him. Cause the withers and shit. So, the government started forming this little thing, called the Butcher Army, I think. It was Quackity’s idea to gather some L’manberg government officials and hunt down Techno.” 

Wilbur laughed a little. “Hunt down Techno? I can’t imagine that going well. Did you tell ‘em that that was a terrible idea and that they would all die?”

Tommy laughed, but in a more solemn way and paused. He also noticed how his own pause was similar to all the pauses Wilbur had been doing since he got back. “I wasn’t in L’manberg at the moment.” He stopped his sentence. “I wasn’t really in the government at all, doing a retirement arc myself.” Tommy didn’t think of himself as a good liar, so he just said what he wished was true. Whether Wilbur believed the lie or not was unknown to him, as he looked out the window of the cabin.

“But, yeah, they all died. Techno was pissed as hell, as one might be if a bunch of people are sent out to kill you.” Tommy laughed. It felt silly, looking back on it. “That was the last straw for him. He rounded up the worst wrongen of them all, Dream.” He contemplated telling Wilbur that Philza joined them. “And they, in typical fashion, ruined everything. It’s nothing now. Most of the ground had exploded. You can see bedrock from the top of the hole, even.” Tommy stared at his feet. “We’d already rebuilt once, and it felt, it felt some sort of wrong, to try again. 

Wilbur didn’t talk. Neither of them talked. It felt like time had frozen around them until they were abruptly interrupted.

“Oh, hello.” Ranboo climbed down the tower in the corner of the room. Wilbur jumped in surprise and turned towards the voice. “I’m Ranboo.”

Wilbur held out his hand and Ranboo gladly shook it. “Wilbur.” Ranboo stepped back and looked to Tommy in confusion of his own. “Yes, that Wilbur.”

“Oh.” Ranboo brought his hand to his face contemplatively. “Not Ghostbur, though?”

“Not Ghostbur. Just somehow-alive, normal Wilbur, fresh from the grave.” Wilbur stuck his hands in his pockets. Tommy knew Wilbur felt more comfortable around Tommy than anyone else, so it didn’t shock him that Wilbur became guarded with Ranboo. 

“I don’t want to interrupt anything. Do you want me to go out and build more of the tower, Tommy?” Ranboo mumbled, looked at his friend, keeping his eyes off Wilbur.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Go ahead buddy,” Tommy said in response. Silence remained in the room until Ranboo quietly closed it behind him. Tommy turned back to Wilbur, expecting him to continue the conversation, which he did.

“Well, he seems nice. You miss Tubbo?” Wilbur said. It was a clear question. Wilbur assumed Tommy was trying to replace Tubbo or something like that. Tommy wasn’t, he thought. If he was, he wasn’t at all aware of it.

“A little. He’s off building Snowchester. It’s a little civilization at the edge of a tundra biome. Looks nice and all, but I just want to get back to being retired.” Tommy was proud of how he weaved his little ‘retirement’ arc thing into their conversation. He didn’t think of himself as a good liar in typical situations.

“That’s fine, Tommy. I’d even say it’s a good idea.” Wilbur pulled out a chair at the table, and Tommy started to sit down as Wilbur continued talking. “It’s been a while since there’s been peace, and you’ve already done so much for your friends. You deserve to relax.”

“What about you? Have any plans, now that you’re back?”

Wilbur took a moment to think. “I don’t know yet. It’s been… well, maybe I’d just like some rest. There’s nothing, in particular, I want to do at the moment.” Tommy thought he was being honest.

“You could build a house around here. We could be neighbors or something. Only if you want to though, or at least while you’re still figuring out what you want to do now that you’re here.” Tommy was just letting words out. He still felt unsure of Wilbur, in the back of his mind, but now, he was acting fine. He was acting normal.

Wilbur smiled. “I think that’s a wonderful idea. Thank you, Tommy.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More stuff happens ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Ranboo thought about the visitor, Wilbur. He remembered people briefly mentioning the man, but he had to flip through his memory book to recall exactly why they brought up his name with hesitation, or some emotion close to it. He’d been the second one to blow up L’manberg, after Eret, before Philza and Techno. He was the one who’d made Tubbo president. He did start L’manberg though. Where did it all go wrong?

Ranboo tried not to worry himself too much, when thinking about anything too stressful. If he did, it was very possible that he’d end up losing time, which was terrifying. So, he just kept on placing blocks. They weren’t too far from being done, only a day or two more. It was nice to see Tommy happy with their work, and how much Tommy asked him and made him feel involved. 

He looked back over to the house. If Tommy trusted Wilbur, maybe Ranboo should give him a chance too. He wasn’t anywhere as bad as Dream, which was good. He certainly cared for Tommy, or did for some time. But, Dream had claimed to care for Tommy as well, and Tommy seemed to have believed him for a while. It was a confusing situation, and no matter what he did, his mind continuously drew back to it. 

A while later, Tommy joined him in building it. “Hey, Ranboo, think you’d be okay with Wilbur being our neighbor?”

Ranboo gave his answer some thought. “Well, it’s your house at the end of the day, but he seems nice enough. I wouldn’t be opposed.” It was true, and it could get a little lonely sometimes if Tommy was out traveling for whatever reason.

“Thanks, dude,” Tommy responded. He started on a new layer of cobble. It was one of those times when Ranboo was thankful for the shade of the tall trees. Otherwise, he’d already be sweaty and uncomfortable.

“Do you have any plans for after we finish the tower?” Ranboo glanced at Tommy.

“Oh, yeah. I was thinking of getting a dog. Seems like a good idea,” Tommy said. “Do you think Enderchest would care?”

Ranboo chuckled. “I think she’d be fine with it. Maybe they’ll even be friends.”

“Oh, yeah,” Tommy spoke. “Until Wilbur is done with his house, I told him he could sleep on our couch, just letting you know.”

“Got it.” Ranboo nodded.

The day moved on, slowly. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the two went back inside the house. The dinner they had that night was filled with what Ranboo considered small talk. It was interesting to watch Tommy and Wilbur interact. There was a sense of familiarity between them, but also hesitation from both of them. They held back whenever the conversation started moving towards something more serious. Ranboo did tend to let them take a hold of the conversation for most of the night, but he did try to contribute a little.

“You, Tommy built this house himself?” Ranboo asked Wilbur, drinking some of his soup. Tommy was getting better at making it, he’d noticed.

“Yes,” Wilbur said while laughing. “I can tell. It has a very Tommy-ish vibe to it.” 

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean, prick?” Tommy looked about ready to jump out of his chair, but Ranboo figured this was just typical brother stuff.

“I didn’t even say anything bad about it… yet.”

If Ranboo had a brother, or sibling, he didn’t remember them. He could admit, he was a little jealous, but he still had that thought in the back of his mind. This man had blown up L’manberg, so maybe, he wasn’t that jealous. It was just… the dynamic the two had looked very nice. He’d like to have a sibling.

Ranboo could already see the moon soon after they’d finished cleaning the table and he looked over to Wilbur and Tommy again. Tommy had gotten him a blanket he made from spare wool that’d been laying around since Wilbur was sleeping on the couch. While Wilbur had denied needing a blanket at first, after Tommy repeatedly told him it would get colder, he accepted it. Ranboo, not wanting to seem like too much of a creepy stalker, made his way to his room. He wished he could see the night sky and the stars from his room. He’d spent a little portion of his life without a proper house, when he’d slept under the light of the big rock in space. 

It was nice living in a house though. It was a whole lot safer, and ended in less creepers scaring him awake. It was also nice to have a bed, a blanket, and different rooms. Having roommates can be nice too, Ranboo thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got a shorty today. But to hype you all up, the next chapter will be Wilbur's pov. Not for narrative’s sake, but because I was in a writer’s block for the other two character's povs as you can tell by the disappointing chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wilbur contemplates

So much had changed. Wilbur sat on the couch, having just woken from a peaceful sleep. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept since he’d died, because he hadn’t. It was late into the day too, the sun had risen a while ago. He could see the two outside. They were already working on the tower. This early too, Wilbur questioned. Tommy does like his towers, Wilbur thought to himself, sitting at the kitchen table.

There was a spare loaf of bread on the table, and he assumed it was for him. A lot had changed, Tommy especially. The last time Wilbur could remember Tommy cooking, they’d almost ended up with a burnt-down house, but the bread he was eating was actually decent. He was more quiet too. Wilbur wasn’t sure who to feel about that yet.

His two roommates were almost finished with the tower, he recalled they told him that at dinner. It did look great. His tower had changed too, for the better. Ranboo seemed like a nice kid for the most part, but then again, Wilbur had known him for less than a day. He couldn’t help being a little suspicious, it was in his nature. He got along well enough with Tommy at least, so there was that.

The house was nice, far better than the afterlife. It was warm. 

He thought about Dream. He looked out the window. Wilbur could remember both times, the two times. In each of those times, his former self would’ve chosen a different option. He did choose the options back then. 

Siding his Dream could mean anything. It was siding with chaos. It was leaving behind responsibility, consequences, and having anything he could ever want. It would mean betraying his brother, hurting him, but maybe it was the better option. Dream had always been the strongest force on the server. The man could do whatever he wanted, to whomever he wanted. If Wilbur hurt Tommy, it wouldn’t be as bad as anything Dream would do to him. He was sure. Maybe he could even convince Dream to leave Tommy alone during his reign of terror. 

But, Wilbur looked out again, focusing on the sight outside. He couldn’t imagine himself hurting his brother again, even if it was probably the better outcome. It was a terrible helpless feeling. Tommy could never have it easy, could he? There always had to be someone stronger, better than him trying to kill him. He would always be the underdog, fighting for his life. Wilbur wished his brother had an easy life, the one he deserved. Maybe there was nothing Wilbur could’ve done to fix that, but he still felt guilty. He should’ve been there for the kid, instead of having some meaningless villain arc, that didn’t accomplish anything. Tommy was still in need of comfort, Wilbur could tell. He wouldn’t tell Wilbur that directly, but Wilbur could tell. It was a brother thing.

He also knew his little brother was keeping something from him. Wilbur decided Tommy could tell him if he ever needed to. He’d just gotten back, and he didn’t want to push his boundaries when things were already tense. It hurt to know Tommy was hurting, and not being able to do anything about it, but he’d lost that chance. Tommy deserved a better family, a better brother. 

Wilbur ate his last piece of bread in silence, and sighed. He just wanted a simple solution, but knew he was never going to get one. 

Being back from the dead was strange. He never thought he would be here again, just sitting down, doing absolutely nothing. He’d done that enough after he’d died, and yet now that he was back in the world, it felt like nothing had changed. It was the loneliness that had become so familiar. There were people outside, but did he really deserve them? Maybe that's why he was alone after he died. Maybe it was his punishment, because he didn’t deserve anyone. Nothing had changed after he died, because in his last few moments he’d been alone, just like he would be after he died. 

He would do it all again. If he got too close, he’d just get worse and end up hurting more people. He couldn’t do that, not again.

He left out the back door. He hadn’t even noticed it until then. He didn’t even have a bag to bring with him, he had nothing. The outside was quiet, but beautiful. Time whizzed by as his path of footsteps grew longer, until the dirt it’d been left in had scattered in the wind. His shoes crushed the fallen, dry leaves on the ground. Wind blew through the trees and only faintly reached him. Tommy had chosen a wonderful place to live, Wilbur thought, as he reached the edge of the forest.

As he left the shade, he looked at the sight before him. It was the nether portal, he was back. The portal looked bigger before, but his memory of it had faded. He walked down the prime path, reminiscing on the things that's been left behind. So much had changed, for better and for worse. It concerned him that there were odd red vines covering a good portion of the civilization, but that was a problem for someone else. He had a broken and battered and abandoned country to visit. He walked past a familiar abandoned house on the way there. It had been changed back to dirt, just like how it had started out, he noted with a small grin. 

He continued his walk, over the bridge, and then through the mountain. Then he saw it, the hole in the ground. There was barely a sign of what had been there. He could see small bits and pieces, but it was pathetic, how ruined it was. The stairs felt steeper then they had been, it was making him dizzy. As he neared the edge of the crater, he could see the bedrock below. They’d really done it. They’d destroyed L’manberg. Wilbur’s hands fidgeted, looking for something to fiddle with. It seemed impossible, that it was just completely gone. It was gone.

Dream and Techno had done this. They’d done this. It wasn’t him, that was for sure. He’d never had that much tnt, he knew this. The L’mantree was gone to. Everything was gone, no sign of anything important being there. The only thing left for the country was the memories that would live on in everyone on the server, but he’d never see it again. It was gone forever, no one had the heart to try and rebuild, because it would never be the same. L’manberg was one of a kind, and Wilbur had fought for it and he’d fought against it. It was odd, in a sad sort of way, looking out over the place that’d been the death and life of him.

Then he heard footsteps walking down the stairs, and flinched slightly. It hurt even more when he heard the voice he recognized. 

“Wilbur?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wilbur tried to run away from his problems, only to run directly into another one


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy and Ranboo look for Wilbur
> 
> Can you tell I'm bad at summaries?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel as though I pussied out (past tense of pussy out) during this chapter, but I do want to have a main storyline having to do with the sleepbois’ awful track-record with killing and betraying family members and the general miscommunications between all of them
> 
> I hope you all have been paying attention to the information that has been withheld from certain characters, because it will be important to the plot a little.

Tommy wanted to yell or cry. He wanted to do something like that. He had just wanted to relax, and now his wild-card, recently-revived brother was gone, just like that. 

“Fuck!”

So, yeah, Tommy charged out the door, Ranboo trailing behind anxiously. “Wilbur, wilbur, where the fuck are you dude?” They walked through the forest, slowly. Tommy didn’t know exactly how to proceed. “This isn’t funny, please don’t try to scare us!” Honestly, Tommy didn’t care if Wilbur was playing some stupid off-vibe prank on them, as long as he wasn’t… well, you know, doing something a lot worse. 

“Wilbur!” Ranboo started yelling on occasion to, wringing his hands together. It was a nervous habit that Tommy hadn’t picked up on until recently. Although, he likes to think he created an environment where Ranboo didn’t feel as scared or uncomfortable. It pained him more than he would’ve expected to watch his friend’s face scrunch up and change with worry.

They neared the edge of the woods faster then Tommy had thought they would, but time felt odd when he was scared. “Do you think he went into the city area?” Ranboo’s hand settled by his sides a moment, before he absentmindedly started gripping his jacket-thing.

“Maybe,” Tommy said. He was really unsure of why Wilbur would run. He seemed fine when he arrived, if not a little shaken up, which he would expect from someone who’d been dead for a while. “You think he went to L’manberg, or what’s left of it?”

“I guess, but you know him a lot better than I do.” Ranboo let out one of his nervous chuckles. Tommy thought about it and determined that Ranboo was nervous about what Wilbur was doing. Tommy couldn’t blame him for that, even he was very worried himself, and Ranboo hadn’t heard much about all the good Wilbur had accomplished in his lifetime, before Pogtopia. His suspicion was justified.

Tommy started to walk along the path. It’d been quite some time since he’d seen it. How long had it been? Long enough, Tommy thought, smiling at the memory of the prime path. It was the path that brought everyone together, made them all one in the same, no matter what side you were on, or what you were fighting for. Now, some panes of the old wood creaked beneath his old shoes as he walked across them.

It was nostalgic, to walk through the place he once knew so well, though, he hadn’t been gone that long. He could remember when the buildings surrounding him were just empty patches of land, and the buildings were only a floor or two, as opposed to the few skyscrapers scattered about the SMP. He remembered when Wilbur first joined the SMP and immediately started to fight for his freedom, fighting against what everyone in L’manberg agreed was tyranny. He followed Wilbur, all the way to the end, to Wilbur’s death. Now that the man was back, Tommy could take a step back and this time, maybe, he would be more critical of his brother’s action. He hoped he wouldn’t need to be this time around. 

Thick red vines also covered the land, not to mention all the stupid posters around the SMP talking about some ‘eggpire’. Ranboo agreed that it was stupid instantly, and that the posters looked ‘lame’. They moved their way past all that nonsense, and Tommy realized how close he was to L’manberg. 

He wasn’t sure who was more nervous, as they rounded the corner, him or Ranboo. They followed the path through a familiar cave and Tommy forced his feet to keep on going. He didn’t have time to stop and be scared, he had to help Wilbur. 

L’manberg looked almost exactly the same, besides some of those aforementioned vines covering a large recreation of the L’manberg flag at the bottom of the hole. As the two of them reached the stairs, they spotted both Wilbur and Philza. It was then that Tommy had remembered that the two of them hadn’t spoken since Wilbur died, at least since Tommy and Wilbur joined the Dream SMP. It was a bit of an odd reunion, his entire family was there, besides Techno, and also Ranboo. Of course, Ranboo had also spent a little time with Philza as well, and had even been invited into Philza’s home. Yet, there they all were. 

———

“Wilbur?”

Wilbur slowly turned around, meeting the eyes of the man before him.

“Philza,” Wilbur said, almost mumbled, while composing himself. It was hard to find words to say, so he just looked back out at the destruction.

“You’re alive?” It wasn’t really a good question, because clearly he was. This Ghostbur guy had apparently set a very convoluted president for life and death, because no one instantly understood he was very real and not a ghost.

“Yeah, not a ghost or anything this time. I’m just plain old me.” He didn’t really want to look at Philza, but he would feel bad for not talking to him, so he just looked at the clouds forming overhead. “And no, I don’t have any of Ghostbur’s memories.”

There was a long pause, and Wilbur glanced towards Philza. He was looking off to the side, hand on the helt of his sword-container-thing. It wasn’t intentional. Wilbur had lived around Philza long enough to know that it was a thing he subconsciously did. It didn’t mean that his sword didn’t bring back a bad memory itself. 

The silence strained when Wilbur was overcome with the need to leave. He decided he didn’t want to be anywhere near Philza at that moment, but at the same time, his feet were glued to the ground. “L’manberg is really, really gone now, huh.” Again, not really a question, but he really didn’t know what else to say. Small talk seemed to be off the table.

“It sure is,” Philza said, blandly. To be fair, he’d never been a part of L’manberg, at least not during the start of it. He’d probably not even became a citizen, following all of Techno’s anarchist bullshit. Following Techno… It did strike an important question into Wilbur’s mind. If Techno had been destroying L’manberg, then where the fuck was Philza? Shit.

“Philza, did you help blow up L’manberg?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pov: you are disappointed because the author can't even make his own characters confront each other, so you settle for this otherwise great chapter

Philza looked conflicted, just for a moment, and that was all Wilbur needed to see. He let out a gentle sigh, and turned on his heels. He did take one look back at Philza before he left.

Philza’s shoulders fell, knowing he’d already lost the argument that never happened, so Wilbur started making his way up the stairs. Tommy and Ranboo watched from the top, awkwardly glancing at each other.

They made their way home in complete silence. Ranboo had forgotten that Wilbur was Philza’s son, but the conversation reminded him. He didn’t think any of his parents ever did anything like that, but he just couldn’t remember. Tommy waited for something. He knew how Wilbur felt, but he knew it was hard for anyone else to understand. He hoped Wilbur would forgive him for not mentioning Philza in the list of people who destroyed L’manberg.  
Wilbur thought a lot about what had just happened. Philza blew up L’manberg with Technoblade and Dream, huh? He hadn’t seen Philza much since he’d arrived on the SMP, in fact, he only saw him once. So, he didn’t really expect any better from his father, if you could even call him that at this point. But, he was justifiably pissed off, just a little.

The trip back was slower than the journey there, or maybe that was just how it felt. After a long while, they spotted a large cobble tower in the distance. The whole crew decided that was enough for the day, and settled into their spots only to gather later for a more eventful then expected dinner. Buckle in.

Wilbur was the first to talk, as he reached the kitchen. “Mushroom soup, again?”

“Yeah, Tommy. I don’t mean to be rude, but maybe you should try cooking something else,” Ranboo suggested quietly, as he hopped off the ladder.

“If you two are going to be shits and complain about it, then you try making dinner for once. What am I, your nanny?” Tommy rolled his eyes and took a sip of his meal. 

After a few minutes of silence and slurping, Wilbur finished his soup. “Hey, Tommy, why didn’t you mention Philza’s whole… involvement with the destruction of L’manberg?” Wilbur got up and moved to the sink.

“I don’t really know. I guess, you’d just awoken from the dead, and that would’ve been quite the bomb to drop on you.” Tommy cringed at his wording as soon as he realized what he said. Wilbur turned on the sink and started to wash the bowl out. Ranboo’s eyes flicked between the other two as he took another drink of the broth.

“You say that as if my last memory here wasn’t of him killing me. It’s not exactly a surprise that he would do something like this,” Wilbur said, a clear bitterness to his tone. 

“Oh, yeah.” Tommy scratched his head, and looked blankly at his last spoonful of soup. “Sometimes I forget that he’s always been a dick.” He drinks the spoonful, and taps the spoon against the rim of his bowl once. “Him, fucking Dream, and Techno, just-” 

“Just shitty, horrible,” Ranboo finished for him, nodding. 

“Ah, they’ve terrorized you as well, Ranboo?” Wilbur looked at Ranboo, with a grin on his face, like it was some sort of inside joke. 

“Uh, yeah, sort of.” Ranboo shrugged, glancing at the other two. “Nothing as bad as what they did to the two of you though.”

“Don’t be like that Ranboo. It’s not a competition. There’s enough valid trauma to go around,” Wilbur said, settling back down at his seat.  
“Well, it’s not like Philza killed me,” Ranboo said, growing more nervous under the spotlight Wilbur was shining on him. “And, like, nothing Dream had done to me compares to the whole exile thing with Tommy. That’s like way worse.”

“What exile thing?” Wilbur titled his chair back to face his brother. Ranboo gulped, realizing he probably shouldn’t have mentioned it.

“Oh, it’s really nothing big, nothing to worry about at all,” Tommy insisted, in the way that signaled red flags.

“Well, that’s hard to believe, considering Ranboo compared it to Philza killing me, right?” Wilbur looked to the hybrid, who instantly looked away, regretting his words far more.

“Dream’s just a shit person, okay?” Tommy stood up. “It’s not any sort of secret.” He walked out of the kitchen and into his room quickly, and slammed his door behind him.

“Shit.” Wilbur rubbed his temples. “That was- that wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Should I be seriously concerned about this whole thing?”

“I don’t really know,” Ranboo replied. “He’s been different, since he came back from exile, but I don’t- you know, it’s sort of a hard thing to ask about. I don’t want to tell you anything he wouldn’t want to know, so you should ask him about it yourself.” He looked to the previously slammed door. “Later, that is. Maybe make him a good meal first.” Wilbur frowned. He really didn’t know how to cook anything at all.

Ranboo took his last sip of soup. “Here, I’ll wash that for you.” Wilbur picked up that bowl and took the spoon for Ranboo’s hand.

“Thanks, Wilbur.” Ranboo smiled a little.

“So, before we were interrupted by Tommy, you mentioned something happening with you and Philza. You want to tell me about it?” Ranboo opened his mouth, but hesitated. “It’s fine if you don’t want to, but it’s not healthy to keep things bottled up inside or whatever. They might just explode on you then.” Wilbur tried an attempt at dark humor, but it fell flat.

“It all started, sometime after the fall of L’manberg, when they all blew it up.” Ranboo glanced at Wilbur. He was listening intently, so he continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every character i will ever write hates confrontation, because i can't possible imagine liking confrontation


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's bread time, best served with angst!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, long chapter alert

Bread, as it turns out, was really fucking hard to make. Outside the house, Ranboo and Tommy were putting the last touches on their little tower, and Wilbur was trying to make some loafs. It was his fifth or so attempt before he got one that at least looked okay to eat without dying immediately. He made two more for the other two members of the house. 

He wasn’t sure exactly if Ranboo’s advice would help or not, but he wanted to help his brother out, even if it just ended with the bread, and Tommy wasn’t feeling up to talking about it this particular night. The oven made a ding noise just on time. As he pulled the bread out, he heard the door open behind him. 

“Aye, Wilbur, you made bread!” He heard his brother’s voice shout in appreciation.

“Yeah, I sure did. They look like shit, but I think they’re safe to eat,” Wilbur said, smiling at Tommy’s own gleeful smile. “I took a bite out of mine, and I don’t feel sick yet, so that’s a good sign.”

The house was relatively peaceful through the rest of dinner. Wilbur recounted several failed attempts at cooking in his past, and Tommy responded with his own stories about cooking and baking. Ranboo said he didn’t remember much about cooking, or if he was any good at it. They collectively decided they should try making a cake in the near future for shits and giggles.

There wasn’t much bread, but it was still enough. They all finished their loaves quickly, because of how small the loaves were. Ranboo suggested that Wilbur’s previous failed loafs burned so easily because of how small they were. Wilbur complemented Ranboo on his smarts, and Ranboo tried to remember the last time he was complemented. He couldn’t.

The sun started setting outside, and Ranboo left the table, and then the room. Tommy moved to stand up, but Wilbur stopped him. 

“Hey, Toms, can I talk to you a moment?” Wilbur tried to be casual about it, but at the end of the day, he would have to be serious.

“Yeah, sure, big man, what’s up?” Tommy stared at Wilbur a moment before the conversation continued.

“It’s just- the thing Ranboo said yesterday, can I ask about that now?” There was another thick pause in the conversation, this time coming from Tommy’s side.

“I don’t know. It doesn't really matter that much, alright? I made a big deal out of something that really wasn’t a big deal.” That was the kind of sentence that made you think something was actually a big deal, a bit of a paradox, Wilbur thought to himself.

“Doesn’t matter whether or not it’s important. Can you just explain what happened to me, and I can decide if it’s important or not?” Wilbur knew Tommy was stubborn as an ox, and he just had to back Tommy into a wall with his words. 

“Fine, Wilbur,” Tommy groaned, looking to the side. “It’s just going to waste your time, but if you insist.” Tommy glanced back up at Wilbur one last time before explaining as much as he could. “The bullshit started some time after you- after you died. So, Tubbo was dealing with his whole presidency thing, being busy and all, right?” He looked to Wilbur for a second, who nodded, but his face rested still.

“I was doing my usual Tommy thing, so like, maybe I did possibly commit arson to George’s little mushroom house.” Tommy’s finger traced the natural wooden circles on the table, feeling something like shame or embarrassment. “Yeah, it got Dream pretty pissed, like really pissed. Yeah, it was not good. He started building these obsidian walls around the L’manberg that's just been rebuilt, which, of course, got a rise out of the L’manbergians. He said he wouldn’t remove them unless Tubbo exiled me, and…” Tommy took a pause. “So he did it. He really had no other choice there, I didn’t think that at the time though. I thought my best friend had just betrayed me, and then I left.”

“Shit,” Wilbur mumbled, then turned back to Tommy. “Sorry, it’s just weird, hearing all this stuff. Keep talking.”

“Yeah, so I was assorted out far away by Dream. Ghostbur came with me the first day too, and he stuck around for a while. We built a little place called Logtescher. I think you would’ve liked it. It was cozy and shit, real nice. At first, like the first day or so, it wasn’t half bad. Sure, I was alone and scared of what Dream could do to L’manberg while I was gone,” or to me when I was all alone. “And no one really visited. Ranboo showed up a few times actually, but at the time, I didn’t even know him. It just felt like a formality, to me at least. But, it got worse.” Tommy leaned back in his chair, and stared out the window, wanted to escape the conversation, but knowing it would come back no matter what.

“The first time, I was just pissed, cause Dream made me put all my stuff in a hole and blew it all up, but I wasn’t- it was something I expected, you know?” Tommy nodded to himself. “But then I got new armor, and new gear, new shit, and he did it again. I didn’t know what to think, so I tried not to think about it, and I got more new shit. Then, it happened again. It was like that for all of exile. I can’t really remember how long the exile lasted exactly, but I can’t remember many people visiting. I thought I saw Tubbo once, but I think it was just wishful thinking. I was so lonely I tried hosting a party, cause my home was on the edge of a beach, so like the perfect place, but no one showed up. I don’t really- I don’t really know why. Sometimes, if it comes up, people say they never got the invitation- but something about that, I don’t know. It feels like they’re lying, another formality.”

“But, I left exile. I’m perfectly fine now. Not much has changed because of that, really.” Tommy laughed his distant thoughts off. “Exile was a little hiccup in the long story of my adventures.”  
“Are you sure, Tommy? You know, you’re not actually some story protagonist who has to face all his challenges on his own. There’s nothing wrong with being affected by something, even if all it did was make you lose your typical rhythm for a while.”

“Well, Wilbur. I don’t know. I don’t talk about it a lot, so I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want to know. Maybe I just don’t ever want to think about it ever again.” Tommy said with a frown on his face and crossed eyebrows.

“So, it doesn’t come up in the back of your mind, if only every once and awhile? We both know that’s probably not true, Tommy.” Tommy didn’t speak. “Like I said earlier, it’s not healthy to keep these things, your feelings, inside of you. Things just build up, and it could get worse. It helps, I think, if you can know what you’re feeling, so you can sort of like control and identify your feelings, or something.” Tommy raised his eyebrow. “Okay, so I had a lot of time to think about my actions in the after life. Don’t make a big deal about this, we’re talking about you today.”

“I mean, it didn’t make me feel good, obviously.” Tommy said, resisting the urge to just shrug.

“Did it make you feel angry, the first time Dream blew all your stuff up?” Wilbur watched his brother as the blond thought.

“Yeah, the first time. I was just caught up in everything that's just happened. It was literally the first day. So much had happened that I was just too tired to care. But, like, sometime after that, the emotion, it wasn’t really sad. I don’t know if that’s how you’d describe it. I guess it was more like…” Tommy pauses for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hopelessness, I guess. I knew no matter what I did, I would lose all my progress, because Dream would alway come back. He would always blow up everything I had, and then I would try, for hours, to get the stuff back, and it just ended the same way. No matter what I did, I would end up with empty hands.”

“Shit, Tommy.” Wilbur said, when Tommy stopped. “Dream’s an absolute piece of shit.”

“No shit, I think that’s been clear from the beginning.” Tommy almost smiled. Wilbur’s expression was more bittersweet, regretting ever considering teaming up with Dream again. He would never take anything from Tommy again, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be letting Dream, from that moment forward.

“Um, you know, I didn’t want to say anything earlier, and I don’t know why, but things got really bad, the sort of things that come with the whole hopelessness thing. I basically just seemed like I was going to jump into lava so much that Dream banned me from going to the nether. I haven’t felt like that in a while, it’s been better, a lot better.”

“That’s- that’s good to hear Tommy.” There was a moment of silence. “Well, now you have people you know care about you a lot. You’ve certainly got one right here.” Wilbur smiled. “You know that, right?” 

“Yeah, Wilbur,” Tommy nodded. It was a small nod, and the boy looked tired.

“And if you ever feel like that again, no matter how important, or unimportant it feels, feel free to come talk to me. You’re my brother,” Wilbur said. “I wouldn’t be too offended if you wanted to talk with Ranboo, or someone else instead though, whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

“Thanks, Wilby,” Tommy said, still very tired.

“Go get your beauty sleep, kid. I was thinking we could all band together, me, you, and maybe Ranboo too, and make a cake. It’s funny, because we’re all bad at cooking.”

“Very funny, Wilbur,” Tommy whisper-yelled, as he walked to his room. “Absolutely hilarious.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cake time, and maybe a new friend

Tommy didn’t really want to make a cake, but couldn’t really turn Wilbur down. He’d grown very attached to the idea, and seemed the most enthusiastic then he’d ever been since coming back. The three roommates could use a good reward, to be honest. It’d been quite a while, and they hadn’t started any real drama since moving in, which was very impressive by their standards. All of them had sort of a record for that sort of stuff.

They already had three wheat, from the farm Tommy had started earlier. All that was left to get was some sugar, an egg, and three buckets of milk. It wasn’t that difficult of a list, only a day or two was needed to collect all the supplies. 

Since Tommy already had three buckets, he volunteered to gather the milk. Ranboo had volunteered to get the egg, because he “really liked chickens” and “hadn’t had the chance to see one in a while” which Tommy thought was silly. He didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes. That left Wilbur to get the sugar, to which he said he knew exactly where to get it. This prompted another eye roll from Tommy. Of course Wilbur got an easy job.

Still, he wandered out in the great unknown, aka further into the forest, holding an unearned confidence that he’d be able to find his way back to the cabin. He headed the opposite way from L’manberg, not really wanting to go back. Where do cows typically live, even, Tommy pondered silently?

He picked up some mushrooms. Despite what his annoying roommates said, he knew he would be stuck cooking all the meal, and therefore, he intended to torture them with more of his chunky stew. 

Then, off in the distance he heard something. It was an odd noise to hear in a forest, something out-of-place about it. Tommy ventured closer to the noise, but still trying to stay hidden amongst the trees. As he drew close, the noise became more recognisable, and Tommy immersed from behind the tree. In front of him was a lone wolf, looking very pet-able. Tommy approached it slowly, extending his hand. The dog was cautious at first, walking up slowly and sniffing his hand. However, after just a moment, the little guy decided it liked Tommy and began licking his hand. Tommy giggled and started petting the dog. 

After a minute or two, Tommy searched his inventory for a particular item. The dog whined when Tommy paused the petting, but still waited patiently. Soon, Tommy pulled out the golden ticket, a bone. The dog instantly grabbed it from Tommy’s hand and chewed on the thing, as if it still had meat on it. Tommy gave it one last pat, and started to walk away.

He only got a few feet before realizing the dog was following him, with the bone still in it’s mouth.

“Hey, buddy,” Tommy mumbled in the voice everyone uses when addressing their pets. “You following me or something? I don’t have any more bones on me, sorry.” The dog stared at him blankly, and dropped the bone, seemingly bored of it. “I don’t know what that means, dude. You can follow me if you want, but I’m not doing anything that interesting.”

And so, on continued Tommy and the dog in their miniature adventure. It was a good period of time before they reached a decent clearing, the sun high in the sky. In the distance, a few cows grazed grass in peace, letting out moo’s everyone once and a while. “We found ‘em, dog. Sure, it took a while, but we found ‘em!” Tommy jumped up and down, sweat dripping down his forehead from the heat of the sun and the exercise of walking. The dog, bless it’s soul, started barking and ran in a little circle, sensing it’s friend’s excitement, and joining in on the fun. 

Tommy sprinted his way to the herd and started milking them. The sooner I can get back the better, Tommy thought, I just hope the dog doesn’t leave once I’m done. It only took about a half hour, which didn’t pale in comparison to all the time they spent aimlessly wandering the woods. The dog sat patiently at his side the whole time he was doing his boring job, to Tommy’s surprise.

The pair was off on their feet again. “I should get some new shoes, right, Dog?” He stared at his feet. His black and white sneakers had little holes at the end of them, and the white almost couldn’t be considered white anymore. The bottom of his shoes were caked white layer of dirt and other disgusting things from the outdoors. Ah, yes, the beauty of nature, Tommy thought, looking at what he assumed were bug guts. Dog barked, almost as if he understood what Tommy had said. “I’m glad you agree.”

By the time he arrived back at the house, the other two were waiting.

“What took you so long?” Wilbur looked at Tommy, then took one of the buckets off his hands. As soon as Wilbur walked away from the doorframe, Ranboo noticed the more exciting thing about him, or the image of him at the door.

“Did you get a dog?” Wilbur almost dropped the milk and rushed back to the door.

“Aw, hey little doggy!” Wilbur dropped to his knees and started quickly petting the dog and scratching its head.

“No fair,” Ranboo said, dropping to his knees as well, trying to pet him as well. The two of them were basically fighting for it’s attention, and the little guy was loving every second of it. 

Tommy, who’d already had plenty of time with the dog, and was very tired, walked over to the kitchen and set the milk in the refrigerator. To the other two’s disappointment, the dog immediately followed Tommy. Wilbur with more of an angry frown, and Ranboo with his eyebrows scrunched together sadly.

“Ha ha, fuckers, Dog likes me better than either of you!”

“Wait, did you name him Dog?” Ranboo looked more amused. 

“Well, I’m not surprised. When we were little, he named his hamster Hammy, or something,” Wilbur said with a laugh.

“No, I named him Hamilton, after the main character of the Broadway hit show, Hamilton.” Tommy took a seat at the table, and Ranboo followed suit.

“Same thing, child,” Wilbur said, pulling out some bread.

“I’m not a fucking child,” Tommy said, taking his plate of bread from Wilbur’s hands. The conversation pretty much ended there. After handing Ranboo his bread, Wilbur sat at the third and final chair. Ranboo and Wilbur had made the bread right before Tommy got back, so it was still nice and hot.

All that was left was to make and eat the cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dog alert


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What were Wilbur and Ranboo doing before Tommy got back, I hear you asking. Well, here is your answer

It only took about a half hour for Wilbur to wander to a river, grab some sugar and arrive back home. The whole cake thing was more for Tommy then him anyways, so it didn’t really matter. He just hung around the house, organising things and moving them around. Tommy tended to leave the kitchen a mess after he cooked, which was most of the time, so Wilbur got used to cleaning it. This morning, bread crumbs littered the surface of the table, and Wilbur grabbed a wet rag to wipe them up. That is, after he put away the spare ingredients and washed the dishes.

It’d been about two hours when the door opened to reveal Ranboo, with a few eggs in his hands and pockets.

“Hey, I got more then one egg. I thought it might be useful,” the kid commented. Wilbur nodded his head, and got out an egg-container thing. 

“I’ve got the sugar, all we need is Tommy.” Ranboo smiled.

“Who’s know’s how long that’ll take?” Wilbur laughed at the comment. “Hey, have you seen the completed tower yet?”

“No, no. I haven’t yet.” The looming cobblestone building had finally been finished, at least from what Wilbur could tell from the outside. “You wanna give me a tour?”

“Sure.” And so, the two of them ventured outside and marched to the tower. 

The first floor was basic, it had a crafting table, a few torches, and a furnace. “This part right here is just where we were preparing things. We might change it soon, though.” They started climbing the stairs. “Most of the floors are empty, ‘cause we don’t know what to do with ‘em yet. I don’t think he really thought that far when building it.” Wilbur nodded, even though he was walking behind Ranboo, and he couldn’t see Wilbur. “It’s the last few floors that have all the important stuff.”

A kazillion floors later, they finally arrived at a room with stuff. “This is just a little storage room, so is the next floor.” That was true. The room was filled with chests, and so was the floor above that one. “This one is where Tommy cooks bread sometimes, I think.” It had a little stove and a nice tabletop, and Wilbur knew Ranboo’s assumption was probably right. It also really told Ranboo was doing this 100% for Tommy. He was letting him go off and do his own thing. That was nice of him, Wilbur decided. “This is the last floor, it’s the roof.”

The view was wonderful. They emerged above the trees, seeing over them. It forced a gasp out of Wilbur, when he could see past the forest. He was pretty sure he could see the start of the Prime Path from there. The forest was also huge looking from that angle, yet so small. He felt he could reach up and touch the clouds, if there were any that day, but there weren’t. The ground was so far away though, it was terrifying. Wilbur pulled away from the edge and turned to Ranboo.

“It certainly is a tower,” he said, in a weak attempt at humor.

“It certainly is,” said Ranboo. There was a brief moment of silence. Wilbur looked off the edge another moment. The trees were knit so closely together that he could only see the floor in certain spots. “Wilbur?”

“Yeah, Ranboo. What’s up?” There were a thousand questions Ranboo could ask, but none of them were really good.

“Before coming here, to Tommy, something was happening to me.” There was a pause. “Like, something bad.” Wilbur didn’t interrupt as the kid beside him slowly articulated his thoughts. “I was… losing bits of time. I couldn’t remember anything, but it wasn’t like before, when I would lose a bit of information. There would just be an entire blank spot in my memory. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“And I would hear this voice, it told me when I was blacked out, that I blew up the community house. I don’t know whether or not it was telling the truth. How could I? I’m scared I’ll start blacking out again, and I’ll hurt someone.” Wilbur nodded while listening. He hadn’t even noticed the community house was gone when he went back to the civilization area.

“You haven’t had it since you got here, right? So, do you think it connects to one thing in specific?” Wilbur glanced back out, looking over the trees. Ranboo copied him. 

“I think it’s like a stress thing, but only when I get extremely stressed.” Ranboo said. Wilbur thought he sounded confident in his answer, which was odd. The kid was usually more meak than this, but the way he was talking about it made him sound like he’d thought a lot about it before. Wilbur would find it hard to believe it hadn’t been clouding his mine for a while now.

“Well, I don’t think you’re going to be encountering extreme stress anytime soon, or at least I hope. If it makes you feel better, I think it’d be sort of hard to just walk up to Tommy and stab him, him or me, that is. For now, I think the safest way to deal with this, is to just avoid conflict.”

“Like peace had ever been a thing on this server.” Ranboo chuckled.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” A flock of birds flew slightly below them, being loud for a minute or two, then leaving. “Beside, you’ve got two influential figures by your side now.” Wilbur said, enunciating ‘influential’ in a mocking tone. “It’s weird to think how much Tommy had actually caused on this server. Now that he’s settled down, maybe the wars will slow down some.” Another moment of silence. “Not that he was to blame for any of them. Most of them were caused by Dream being a prick, actually.”

“True, true.” The two shared both a moment of humor, and of understanding. It was the first real conversation the two had together, and it came to a satisfying conclusion. That Dream is a huge prick and should be blamed for everything wrong in the world.

“Also, no offense, but are you ever going to move out?” Wilbur turned away.

“I think that’s enough talking, let's head back to the house.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are having a good day and that you all enjoyed the chapter!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They bake the cake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you all are coping well with the recent stream ):

The three of them spent the whole afternoon on that cake. Why? Maybe because it started like this:

“So, which of you actually knows how to make cake?” Ranboo and Tommy stared at Wilbur blanky after he spoke. “Great. Well, it can’t be that hard, can it?”

“Well, it’s just cooking?” Tommy shrugged. “There are only like four ingredients, it can’t be too hard.” He paused a moment. “I mean, at least one of us has at least seen what a cake looks like right?”

“I can’t really remember seeing a cake.”

“The last time I made a cake, it was at Niki’s bakery. I really should’ve bothered to ask her how to make it.”

“Yeah, you should’ve, loser. Waste of a perfectly good interaction with a baker woman.” Tommy shook his head in shame at his brother.

“Well, I would assume we start out by getting out a bowl, right?” Wilbur looked at the other two. “We’ve got to start out with the batter, I think.”

And so, Tommy went up to a shelf and grabbed a little bowl from it. 

“Hey, we should wash our hands first guys,” Ranboo reminded the two of them. Wilbur smiled at the younger’s concern and Tommy just groaned. They took turns cleaning their hands.

They all stood in silence around the bowl and ingredients for a while. “I’d think we’ve just gotta put everything together and mix it up,” Tommy suggested. “I mean, what else could we do with all this shit.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Ranboo said, looking inquisitive at the assorted materials on the table in front of him.

“Let’s do it,” Wilbur said, nodding.

First, they added in a lot of the wheat, after Wilbur suggested it was likely the base for the cake. Next, they decided the sugar, as Wilbur remembered you had to add the dry ingredients first, or something like that. Tommy added the milk next, and Wilbur started stirring it all together. For the finishing touch, Ranboo got to crack and egg for the first time in his life, that he could remember, that is. 

“Oh, shit,” Wilbur mumbled, mid-stir. “Tommy, can you preheat the oven?”

“To what, Wilbur,” said Tommy, as he walked over to it.

“Um,” there was a long pause. “350, or something. If we check on it regularly, it will be fine, I think.”

Tommy started to mess with the dials. “Is there anything I can do to help?” Ranboo watched the two work.

“Why don’t you have a turn stirring this thing? It should only take a minute or two more,” Wilbur responded.

“Sure.” Ranboo hurried over to take the spoon from Wilbur, and did indeed take his own go at it.

“Make sure you’re getting the sides of the bowls too.”

The three sat around until the oven dinged, letting them know it was heated. Wilbur poured the bowl into a cake pan, and set it in the oven. The next hour was filled with Wilbur incessantly checking the cake and sticking toothpicks in it to see if it was ready to take out. Ranboo rearranged his room and Tommy watered the flowers he’d recently planted around his house. Wilbur sat next to the oven, and wrote in a little journal Tommy had given him a while ago.

At last, Wilbur shouted out in glee. The others, knowing the cake was ready, rushed to the kitchen. Tommy made it into the room first, and almost knocked Wilbur over after bumping into him. Ranboo’s had a noticeable scarry run, because of how fucking fast he could go with his super long legs. It looked less like a run, and more like aggressive power-walking.

“Shit, we don’t have frosting,” Tommy said.

“I don’t really like frosting,” Wilbur said, cutting into the cake.

“What is frosting?” Tommy’s jaw dropped.

“Ranboo! Oh my god. You are missing out on so much. Frosting is the best part of the cake,” Tommy said, with a very enthusiastic tone.

“It’s not that great, seriously,” Wilbur said, now plating the squares of cake.

“Since Ranboo can't remember cake, he should have the slightly larger piece.”

“Well, what if he just forgets cake again. Then this would be useless,” Tommy grumbled.

“Don’t be a little shit, Tommy,” Wilbur instructed, giving Ranboo the piece that was noticeably a rectangle and not a square like Wilbur or Tommy’s piece. 

“Oh, fuck off Wilbur,” said Tommy, taking his first bite. Ranboo followed and Wilbur started eating last.

“This is actually really good,” Ranboo said in astonishment. Wilbur nodded slowly.

“Yeah, yeah! We did it!” Tommy cheered. “We made good cake!”

“Yes, and I didn’t doubt us for a second,” Wilbur said. Tommy rolled his eyes and Ranboo smiled a little. They all finished the cake in a matter of seconds.

“Maybe we should’ve made more cake,” Tommy spoke, with pure disappointment in his voice.

“To be fair, it was our first time baking. I agree, it was very small.”

“Says the one with the larger piece.”

And the day ended with playful bickering and complementing of cakes. 

The three of them were content, for the most part. Tommy had finished his tower and gotten a new dog buddy. Not to forget, he also got away from the constant state of war he’d spent more of his childhood in. Ranboo had gotten people who cared about him and actually liked him. He’d found people who weren’t intengled in sides and a peaceful, for the most part, home. Wilbur finally had a home with his brother and was, surprisingly, alive. Wilbur didn’t wish for more, but he did build his own house, eventually, only after some pestering from his little brother. He’d also meant Ranboo. At first he was unsure, but watching him and Tommy talk, well he could tell Ranboo was a good person. And then as he got to know Ranboo, he even thought he could see Ranboo as a brother some day as well.

The sun set on the house, day after day, without interruption. Inside, three people lived their lives. The narrator takes a step back, they know everything will be okay. There is no story to tell anymore, because the people in there have no questions. They are uncertain of what’s to come, but that’s okay, because they know they’ll have each other and that’s all they need. The people in there are happy, and they might not always be, but nothing is permanent. Temporary safety, happiness, and comfort is what makes a good life, after all. And with that, the author gifts you a good bye from them. Wilbur might wave, a silent goodbye. Tommy would probably shout at you, in a nice way. Ranboo would give you one last hug before you leave. Dog would bark at you. And the author says a simple “Goodbye dear, reader.”

Wishing you temporary safety, happiness, and comfort

Mister RJ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this felt like a natural end for the story, i hope you all have enjoyed the journey!
> 
> if you want more sbi family content, consider checking out some of my other stories! 
> 
> i have like two more long stories and a huge one shot book that is 20+ thousand words in at the moment, if you're interested

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, there will be a more, just wait. Also, this isn't the story I've been working on for over a week. I wrote this two days ago lol.


End file.
